


A Strange Drink

by PlayfulMay



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6453160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayfulMay/pseuds/PlayfulMay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Phryne finally gets Jack out on the town, an incident with a funny-tasting drink cuts the evening short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strange Drink

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally wrote a novelette with this one ... woops.  
> I feel like the shorter I intend to make these stories, the longer they become.  
> Oh the powers of Phrack ...

Phryne awoke to a throbbing in her head and the soft elegance of silk sheets. She smiled at the familiarity of her own bedroom, and the unusually comforting sense of waking alone. Since she had come to form a very complex relationship with Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, she found that she much preferred a nightcap with Jack than a round or two of sexual mischief with a more liberal-minded man.

The hangover that turned her stomach and pulsed between her ears had Phryne rolling her eyes at her night with Elizabeth MacMillan - Melbourne's finest doctor and most clever friend. Whenever the two women took it upon themselves to go for a night out on the town, it always ended with Phryne well and truly smashed. How Phryne allotted herself such chaos just after her time in the war was logical, but how she allowed it after so much time had passed was simply negligible. Phryne huffed an affectionate laugh to herself, and rolled onto her back to find that she was still wearing last night's evening wear.

"Miss Fisher?" came a tall and comforting tone outside of her bedroom door - Mr. Butler, of course. "I'm afraid there's been a murder."

"Oh, it's a little early for murder - even for me," Phryne chuckled, propping herself up on her elbows before clawing at the comforters to wield herself to the edge of her bed.

"Yes, well," Mr. Butler chuckled as well, cautious of the volume of his voice after the state in which he found Miss the night before. She had stumbled against the door only to laugh wildly as he pulled it opened and helped her inside, waving off the taxi and helping her up the stairs. Mr. Butler was happy, though, to see fewer men visit overnight. He was happy that one man in particular had come to tickle Phryne's fancy. On that very thought, Mr. Butler elaborated through the solid door. "All the same, Miss ... the Inspector's waiting in the parlour."

"Jack?!" Phryne gasped with grand surprise, tucking and rolling out of her bed in so hurried a fashion she tumbled right to the ground.

"Everything alright in there, Miss?" came the very best attempt Mr. Butler had at holding back a loving breath of laughter at her desperate enthusiasm.

"Yes, of course!" Phryne answered, pulling her door open with a gleam in her eye.

Admiring her energy, Mr. Butler nodded without his usual gesture to the stairs. He waited for a moment as Phryne realized suddenly that she wasn't fit for company - still adorned in the wrinkled clothes from yesterday.

"Tell him ... tell him I'll be right down," she grinned with a wriggle of her shoulders, and disappeared behind her bedroom door again.

Mr. Butler smiled and imagined that if it were possible, he cared for Miss Fisher more with every passing day of service.

Jack stood patiently at the window when Phryne came down only a few short minutes later in a purple sun dress with a matching hat and stockings. It took all of his self-control to keep his eyes on hers, and given his budding relationship with Phryne, he knew she wore provocative items at times just to get those eyes to fall. It hadn't worked just then, however, and for that Jack smiled at her in victory.

"Miss Fisher. I'm terribly sorry to come by so early, but I come with police news."

"It's hardly early," Phryne said with a shrug, sitting loosely on her chaise lounge as if she had been up all morning.

"I'm aware that you were out on the town with Dr. MacMillan just the other night, so-"

"And just where did you hear that?!" Phryne interrupted in shock, folding her hands in her lap.

"I have my sources."

Phryne couldn't help a smirk at Jack's line - a source indeed. She would have to teasingly scold Dot at a later time.

"You may have your sources, Inspector ... but I had an awful lot of fun last night, and I'm not about to apologize if I should happen to sleep in."

Jack arched both brows at that, observing her very carefully. "And you think me to be incapable of fun, Miss Fisher?"

Phryne glanced him over, and shrugged her shoulders again, for effect - her eyes raking over the well-cut suit he wore in silent appreciation. "Well ... I wouldn't say incapable ... but perhaps unwilling ..."

"I see," he managed to reply without any trace of a smile.

"Unless you ... care to prove otherwise, of course ..." Phryne started, flouncing the hair at the back of her neck as if she didn't feel elated at the idea of a night out on the town with Jack.

Suddenly as Phryne lifted her eyes from the floor, she saw the smoldering look in Jack's eyes, and she melted. He wanted to prove his spontaneity just as much as she wanted to see him do it.

"Miss Fisher ..."

"-Mac said you'd never allow for it," Phryne assured, again playing with her hair nervously but keeping her eyes glued to his. "She ... she said that."

Jack took account of the flush in Phryne's cheeks and the repetition of something that wouldn't have convinced him in the first place, and he knew. He knew that Phryne would have done just about anything to lure him out for a fun and rowdy night, and he was quickly finding that whatever brought Phryne joy, he was willing to supply. If that were to be his presence, he thought that it would be attainable.

"She said that, did she?" he asked, as if that had made up his mind. He leaned, admiring the flicker of excitement on Phryne's porcelain features.

Phryne smirked: "And she said ... you and I would never allow for ourselves to share a drink out on the town ... for ... whatever reason."

The way Phryne cleared her throat had Jack smiling despite his greater efforts to hold back. However, he found that instead of giving in directly to Phryne's game, he would posit one of his own. With just that thought, he nodded his head: "Of course, what have friends to be so cautious about? An innocent night of a drink or two - nothing wrong with that."

"No, nothing," Phryne smiled, feeling as though she'd just won a rather large and enticing prize. She would have Detective Inspector Jack Robinson all to herself for a night. But just when would she be able to enjoy such an occasion? "Nothing wrong with ... perhaps a few drinks ... tonight?"

Jack chuckled, and crossed the room to find his own comfortable seat - leaning back with a contented sigh: "I'm afraid that will have to wait until this weekend, Miss Fisher." Oh, this - he knew - would be fun.

"Very well then," Phryne beamed, interlacing her fingers together to support her chin with both elbows balancing on her arm rest: "On with the case, shall we?"

***

Jack had been nervous for the entirety of his day off, wondering why - of all the worldly things - he should choose to plan such an evening with Phryne on his day off: a Saturday. It only meant he thought of her to no end, wondering and enthusing about the time they would spend together that evening.

He thumbed over a picture he had kept of Phryne, and sighed at the realization that being caught with such a thing on his person was liable to get him into a difficult predicament. He didn't even want to know what Phryne might say about the affectionate way he stroked the confiscated photo his constable had taken upon her arrest so long ago. How things had changed.

Some moments, he remembered the way Phryne had physically fought at the station with him - her foot shooting out to his shin. He hadn't believed the audacity she'd had, nor the fight she put up when he went to cuff her. He often grinned at just that, and how pliant she very well might have been if he had dangled the darbys in a more intimate setting. She had teased him often enough for the idea to take hold. In fact, Jack imagined she had a key to his darbys somewhere on her person at all times. For what, he didn't know. It just seemed like something Phryne would somehow possess. He actively avoided thinking where she might hide such a thing.

Jack found himself just as distracted with thoughts of Phryne as he shuffled his way out from his car to her residence that evening. Of course, she had insisted on meeting him at the club, but Jack wanted no chance of her heading home on her own. In the middle of the night - certainly intoxicated enough - Jack would be seeing her home.

The courteous smile Mr. Butler sent him as the door was opened told Jack the older man was glad for the care he took with Phryne. At times, it would seem the observant Mr. Butler was all-too-keenly aware of Jack's feelings for Phryne.

"I'm afraid you've just missed her, Inspector," Mr. Butler said with a more unfortunate smile and a sorry nod of his head: "She left just ten minutes ago - declaring it urgent she arrive ... 'on time,' Sir ..."

Jack rolled his eyes with a natural smirk that caught him whenever Phryne pulled another one of her tricks. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, pushing back the lapels of his coat. "Ah ... well, I must be late, then."

Mr. Butler only respected Jack further for not calling Miss Fisher out on her mischievous games. Instead, Jack took the trick with a graceful and modest smile, heading back down the stairs.

The same grin was pressed to Jack's lips as he stood at the entrance of the club to see Phryne waltzing over to him with two drinks in her hands. That simple yet seductive bounce in her step had him taking a long, slow breath.

"Are you impressed?" Phryne asked with a daring grin, passing Jack his usual neat scotch. Her fingers touched his along the glass as it traded hands. Phryne's eyes told of the tingle that shook her, too. Jack hid his pleasure a little easier, casting his eyes over the crowd while hers sized up the outfit he'd chosen. "... Well?"

"Impressed that you snuck out early and had a dance with the drummer?"

Phryne scoffed: "What? ... And just how would you know what I've been up to?" Leaning in, Phryne gazed down at his lips: "I hope you haven't been watching me, Jack Robinson ..."

"I'm a detective," Jack dismissed nursing his drink with a thoughtful tilt of his glass. "It's what I do, Miss Fisher."

"Well, if you're proving to me that you're able to let loose and have a little fun ... I think we ought to hit the dance floor. And you might even have to call me Phryne - as difficult as I'm sure that will be for you."

She was walking down toward the other dancers as Jack shook his head, downed a large gulp, and put his drink down on the bar to follow after her. He passed carefully through the moving, twisting patrons until he noted a man wrapping an arm around Phryne's shoulder.

The speed with which Jack found himself at Phryne's side surprised even himself. He had never realized just how protective he felt over her until that moment, confronting the excited man who leered down at the view Phryne made against him.

"If you're looking for a dance, I think you'll find a lady would rather be ASKED," Jack asserted so confidently that Phryne forgot the aggressive suitor. She watched Jack with a kind of intrigue that couldn't be muted by the beat of music or the hype surrounding her. Jack was such a gentleman - a kind-hearted man to his very core.

"And what's it to you?" the man barked back with his hand placed on Phryne's alabaster shoulder.

However, Phryne gladly slipped away from him to float alongside Jack. With a very capable balance and mastered stealth, she tamed the competition she felt rising between the two men on her behalf. Phryne was not a woman who needed to be defended, but Jack certainly didn't disappoint ...

"I'm with him," Phryne answered when the man looked as though he needed some further explanation. She rolled her eyes once he'd left, flashing a large smile up at her wannabe saviour. "Oh, Jack ... When will you learn you needn't go gallivanting around to rescue me? ... I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Well sometimes it's nice to be cared for," he said quietly to her, leaning so close he was nearly whispering it into her ear. Then Phryne DID swoon, resting neatly against him with the weakness in her knees at the passion in his eyes. Jack Robinson was a romantic in every sense of the word, and Phryne was finding it a more and more appealing quality.

"Jack ..."

"What do you say to a dance?" Jack asked confidently - his hand having found a soothing pressure against Phryne's lower back to keep her steady and close.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Phryne closed her eyes with desire when she stopped on the floor amidst the upbeat rhythm of the club, and waited. Waiting for Jack to decide how to react could be so utterly delicious, and the pay off could be absolutely electric.

Jack's calm hand gently encircled her waist - touching his palm across the thin material of her dress. The dropped waist and scoop neck of her dress proved to be somewhat challenging by way of distraction, but Jack was plenty capable of thrilling Phryne with a dance.

They began the dancing with a slow, meaningful and proper step, both keeping steady eye contact. As the pulse of the music changed, however, so did Jack's strategy. He spun Phryne once more, pulling her back to his chest just to catch her off guard.

Phryne couldn't have ignored the way his hands made her feel even if she wanted - she was vibrating with the excitement of his touch. Jack smiled down over her shoulder at the surprise hitch in her throat at their positioning - he knew she hadn't expected he might position himself behind her, but surprising that devilish woman brought him enough elation to risk the impropriety.

Moving much slower to the beat of the music, Jack swayed with Phryne until she pressed her hips back a little too splendidly. Carrying his mind as best he could to another place, Jack spun her around and framed them once again in a more formal stance. Distance could be necessary when she excited him so thoroughly. If Phryne had noticed the reaction he felt, she hadn't teased him for it. She stared up at him from under her lashes and smiled.

It was all the chemistry she could handle, staring up at Jack. The Detective Inspector was proving himself to be most mysterious after all. Where he had learned to dip and sway her with such loose and sexy ease, she didn't know. She wanted so deeply to learn how, why, where and with whom. She even found herself becoming jealous at the latter, smiling at the fact that it was only with Jack she felt as green with jealousy.

When he dipped her at the close of the song, Phryne let her intoxication take effect - allowing herself the painted picture of satisfaction in her eyes. Her chest and cheeks were flushed - she knew - and her hair out of place with the way he moved her across the floor. Phryne found her breaths coming at a wanton pace.

It took a steady pull to gather Phryne to her feet again. Panting, they looked at one another with chests pressed so closely there was no space for even a file folder between them. Phryne forgot to inhale, staring into those heavenly blues.

Jack had to confess to himself a certain undoing at the look in her eyes. Phryne was sharing a weakness with him that he uncovered with great enthusiasm, tilting her chin up to find that her hips still swayed gladly with his.

"I take it this isn't exactly the standard night out that you promised me?" he teased to eased the tension building.

Phryne tore her eyes away for a moment to gather her senses, blinking mischievously up at him to wrap her arms around his hips. "No ... Mac and I don't dance this way, I must say ... but I have been known to dance with a man or two."

At the mere mention of other men, Phryne noticed a withdrawal from her beloved inspector, and quickly added to cover any insecurities he felt.

"None so charming as you, though, Inspector."

The music slowed to a mellow, jazzier tune that Jack could certainly appreciate - leading Phryne, which he imagined was no simple task.

Lights shone half-heartedly over the crowd, and the music carried throughout the club. There were drapes separating the main area from another lounging spot, and a hallway down to the bathrooms. Most of the walls were made of dark wood panels Jack found to be quite comforting, and the floor was easy enough to calculate even after enjoying a few delightful drinks. Everything seemed to be going along swimmingly until Jack found the need to relieve himself.

"Save the next dance for me," Jack smiled against her still, glancing down toward the hall on the right. "I'll be right back."

"I'll save you more than a dance," Phryne winked, watching him walk off as she found herself buzzing over to the bar. She was approached by one kind man, but turned him down for a dance. She sat ruminating with the thought that she really had no desire whatsoever to have another man's hands on her. There were only one set of hands that excited her to dizzying heights, and those hands had commanded her attention all evening.

Pulling Phryne from her consuming thoughts, a server brought her a drink offered from one of the other patrons. Without a second thought, she accepted with a wide smile and shot it back. Sent drinks each night she went anywhere, Phryne was no stranger to gifted beverages, and found that they reminded her of lively parties just after the war. It was only after it had coiled down her throat that she noted the strange bitter taste - grabbing the waiter at his arm as he went to leave. "Wait ... who bought me this? ... What is it?"

"I don't know the drink, Ma'am," the server shouted over the music, professional if not entirely helpful. "But it was from that fellow over ..."

Just as he gestured, he realized the man had vacated his seat. "Oh ... uh ... well, sorry. Are you alright, Miss?"

"I'm fine," Phryne muttered with frustration. Such men with their forcefulness made the rest of them look so god-awful - Mac's words from previous nights reeling in her head. 

Phryne rolled her eyes, thanked the server for inquiring, and turned back around on her barstool to watch for Jack. Thankfully he returned quickly, but Phryne knew she didn't need anyone. Then what was it that had her so damned pleased every time she noted his arrival? She chuckled at lop-sided indignations, and then blinked when she felt dizzy for a moment.

"You don't ... look quite yourself," Jack observed as immediately as he reunited with his dance partner. He detected the note of concern in her eyes, and mindlessly snaked his arm around her back should she need support in her unbalanced state. He had shrugged out of his suit coat in the washroom, but suddenly worried that Phryne seemed altogether different. The sparkle had vanished momentarily from her eyes.

"It's nothing," she said unconvincingly, causing Jack to toss a glance over the crowd, sweeping it for possible onlookers.

"Nothing, huh?" he grumbled, turning his attention back to Phryne as she blinked numerously and then lifted herself off her seat at the bar.

"Care to dance?" she asked, leading him out onto the floor with his eyes still suspiciously raking over the large, open room. It took about ten more minutes for Jack to become so seriously concerned he helped the lady detective to a table.

"Phryne?" he asked, watching her squint out at the wall behind him. "Phryne, what's wrong?"

She laughed at his urgency and looked down to him with a pleasing grin: "Oh, Jack ... you ought not to take life so seriously."

"I'll gladly relax a little when you can keep your head straight," he insisted, knowing the effects of liquor consumption and able to differentiate them from the way Phryne reacted comically to a very plain, panelled wall. "Uh huh ... come on, I'm taking you home."

"Oh, Jack," Phryne chuckled freely, quite enjoying whatever pleasurably strange effects her body was experiencing. "Let me enjoy this night, won't you ...?"

"This is a regularity for you, then?" he teased with a roll of his eyes, adoring even in the worried moment how Phryne could entertain his dry sense of humor so thoroughly.

"I like to let loose," Phryne answered, suddenly very excited by the detective's hand on her hip. She spun mid-stride to hold the handsome Jack Robinson in her arms, and he laughed as he caught her there, against him. Just before Jack was about to ask what on earth she was doing, Phryne kissed him.

Jack would have liked to have a clearer head for Phryne's safety, but that kiss silenced any and all logic that would have liked to motivate him. For that one special kiss, he allowed himself the time to experience the way she made him feel. He found himself kissing her back quite languidly before finally pulling back.

"I've always wanted to do that," Phryne whispered against his lips, kissing him soundly once again before he could argue the timing of her actions. "Mmm ... these lips ... kissing me back ... Feels so good ... Kiss me again ... I love it when you hold me ..." she whispered onto his lips, kissing him again: "Yes, like that ..."

Jack found himself rather surprised at Phryne's ongoing barrage of comments as he held his hands out in surrender while she planted kisses over his face. He would have teased her for the desperate appearance of her affections, but he was more worried than amused - imagining a completely sober Phryne might have more appreciated the act than the narration. He pulled back painfully at the difficult loss of the lips he had fantasized about for so long, deeply against any intimacy with an inebriated woman.

And the way Phryne's eyes widened excitedly then, at a simple cat scurrying across the street, hinted at more than ordinary intoxication.

"Phryne, look at me," he said in the very professional and concerned tone of voice he used when he was working at City South station. As she turned to his worried command, Jack held her face so that the street light illuminated his curiosities. Her pupils were exaggeratedly dilated.

Phryne just grinned happily up at him, and that gave Jack a grin just the same, regardless of the possible seriousness of the situation.

"I need you ... to tell me exactly what happened while I was gone," he said softly, seeing that his attention and warm tones gathered Phryne's agreement. As an officer, he often had to read a situation for ways in which to ask or tell a suspect something very important. In his case with Phryne, he simply gazed into her eyes, and she gave it all to him freely.

"A lot happened, Jack ..." she started, recollecting things, but finding them fuzzy. She ran her fingers through his hair at the back of his neck, and moaned at the way her breasts felt pressed against his chest. She took in the details of his wonderful face, and purred: "You look so beautiful tonight ..."

"Oh, do I?" Jack blushed from ear-to-ear. That was certainly a new compliment.

"Those eyes ..."

"Yes, Phryne, my eyes," he smiled at her, trying to remain calm when he had really begun to worry for her safety if she'd been drugged with something. "But please ... what happened in there? Did someone strange come up to you? Did you get a drink? Did you-"

"Drinks aren't supposed to be so bitter," Phryne moaned, moving her left cheek against the stronger hand at her face. "Mmm ... but I knew it right away."

"What drink?"

"Mmm ... I could stand here all night, Jack ... looking at you."

Then Jack's hands moved to her shoulders, focusing her gaze from his lips to his eyes. "Phryne - look at me. What drink? Did you see who gave it to you?"

"I didn't find out who ... it was just some joke, Jack ... I just need to dance it off," Phryne fussed, squirming out of his hands to walk somewhat shakily along the walkway. "What are you - the drink police?"

Jack could only arch a brow. "I'm the real police, and you're in no position to be sassing me."

Suddenly the street lights seemed to have a glow surrounding them, and the grass didn't have its natural properties. Phryne stopped, shut her eyes tightly, and then blinked them opened again. "Are you ... seeing that?"

Jack stopped a pace behind her, still glancing down both ends of the street for a taxi - having parked his car a few streets down and unwilling to usher her all the way there in her state.

"What are you seeing?"

"Aww, they're like little snakes," Phryne cooed, crouching down by the grass with wide eyes and a curious touch - cautious in case the snakes might venture out to bite her hand.

Jack stood in disbelief at the sight before him, opting to flag down a taxi instead of mocking the drugged lady at his feet. "Uh huh ..."

It took only a few minutes for Jack to book them a cab with his badge - using his authority for police business, as the woman in his care needed to seek medical attention. The cab that stopped already had a couple inside, but Jack slipped Phryne into the front seat, and shut himself in just beside her.

What turned into a very interesting ride was cut short when they arrived in St. Kilda at her house - the closest place to take her. It was a short ride where Jack paid the driver with thanks for the urgent help, and ushered Phryne inside her house.

"Mr. Butler? Oh Mr. Butlerrrr?" Phryne shouted with a giggling, jaunty tone that had Jack finding humor in the situation despite his greater worries.

"Shh! Just get us inside with your key," Jack chuckled, knowing it wasn't too late to wake the older man who always seemed incredibly young at heart, but rather that it was rude. "Don't tell me you don't have a key to your own house?"

"Oh, perfect," Phryne beamed suddenly, leaning back against the front door with her arms spread and her head tilting back. "You can search me for it."

Jack swallowed hard at the very idea of such a thing, and ran his hand frustratedly over his face. Phryne was teasing him mercilessly, and it was beginning to have its effect on him physically. Certainly he would never take advantage of her, but his body could hardly help reacting.

"Don't be too quick about it," Phryne moaned, wriggling her shoulders just when the door unlocked at her back.

With a quick hand, Jack reached out for Phryne, and pulled her against him as the door gave way. Phryne moaned and breathed along Jack's neck while the detective looked rather embarrassed at the sight they made there, before Mr. Butler's stunned expression.

"Come in," the man so kindly invited, blinking away any shock with experienced courtesy Jack appreciated with a thankful nod.

"Oh, maybe you can take me up to my room and I can show you all my dresses," Phryne hummed happily as Jack led her in by both her arms - steering her, in a sense. "Oh, Jack ... please tell me you'll come up to my room? Mr. Butler ... won't you- Oh ... look at all those lights ..."

As Phryne drifted into her dining room to stand fascinated at the lighting fixture, Mr. Butler arched both brows at the woman's behaviour.

"She's drugged," Jack explained quietly to Mr. Butler, huffing out a breath with exhaustion as he laid down the coat on his arm, and unbuttoned the cuffs at his wrists. He was rolling up his sleeves when Mr. Butler finally replied - eyes still glued to the very strange behaviour of Miss Fisher. "I don't know what with and as I know she has the city's best doctor on retainer, I thought I'd bring her straight here."

"I'll call Dr. MacMillan."

"Yes, please do," Jack started, heaving another sigh when Phryne distracted herself once again with thoughts of her bedroom - helping herself up the daunting stairs and hands and knees. "Oh no no no ..."

Mr. Butler watched Jack very dutifully follow after Miss Fisher before ringing the good doctor at her house address. The older man couldn't help but smile at the very careful way Jack assisted Phryne up the steps - being certain not to hold or touch her too suggestively. It took a very special man for Mr. Butler to trust upstairs with a drugged and excitable Miss Fisher, but Jack had earned that distinction long ago.

"We can kiss all night, Jack," Phryne giggled, moaning at something or other as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Let's just worry about getting you up these stairs," Jack mumbled back with concern.

Upstairs, Phryne tried to dance, kiss, jump on, and grab Jack, but all she succeeded in doing was changing the officer's tactics at subduing her. He stood at her back, holding her arms tightly to her chest as she struggled and whined.

"Jack, I'm not-"

"Yes you are," he said into her ear, stilling her at last. "You're drugged. I don't know what it is, but please - if you would just listen ... please-"

"But I'm-"

"You've been talking almost this entire time," Jack panted, trying to think of how to tame an excitable woman who couldn't seem to control her own actions. His mind went immediately to his instincts on the job, but his darbys were not an appropriate tactic for Miss Fisher. And in any case, he didn't have them on his person. Jack sighed again, and kept Phryne still against his chest. Even though he began to react to the irresistible way she squirmed her hips purposefully against him, he knew that if he could just keep her still, they would be just fine.

That was, until Elizabeth MacMillan made her way onto the scene.

Phryne had been very much enjoying the particular appendage that grazed over her backside as she moved against Jack. She certainly did feel a high of some sort in her system, but she couldn't control it, and she didn't feel the need to do so. The pleasure she felt from the drug invigorated her senses and washed over her with a state of euphoria. She even enjoyed being subdued when the man at her back was so intoxicating and unforgivably handsome.

"Alright, let me at her," Dr. MacMillan interrupted, bringing a pout to Phryne's lips and a restlessness that challenged Jack's ability to keep her so gently restrained.

"No ... Jack was helping me," Phryne groaned, dropping her head back onto his shoulder only to have Jack clench his teeth - holding her so closely had effects he didn't want to be made quite so clear to the good doctor.

Mac thoughtfully turned her back to set up her kit at Phryne's large dressing table vanity. "Alright ... on the bed with you," she said over her shoulder, taking out some supplies she thought might be handy.

Jack helped Phryne to the bed, falling onto it with the clumsy way Miss Fisher pulled him along.

"And here I thought the constabulary were able to keep relatively anyone obedient ..." Mac teased, watching her petite friend get the best of a very experienced officer of the law. She fought back the laughter that threatened to bellow out when Phryne squirmed enticingly underneath her momentary handler.

"I'm trying to keep from hurting her," Jack huffed with exhaustion, flipping Phryne onto her stomach to bring both hands behind her back. "Christ ... I haven't seen anyone like this before ... do you ... think it might be something dangerous? ... In her system?"

Mac straightened her smile at the heartbreaking concern flashing in Jack's eye, levelling with him in the friendliest tone of voice: "No, I think she'll be just fine. She hasn't exhibited anything I would deem as fatal or scarring to her psyche, so I wouldn't worry. She's conscious, which is a good sign ... but this is definitely an excitable drug, isn't it? An upper of some sort."

At Phryne's desperate moan underneath Jack, Mac couldn't help but let out a flowing sheet of laughter at the strange situation she'd found herself in.

Jack kept his usual practiced expression of duty - one hand pinning both of Phryne's wrists behind her back and a leg pressing at the backs of her thighs to keep her steady over the comforters of her bed.

"My my, she'll be sorry she missed this," Mac teased, shaking her head with a humor she would save for a later date.

Jack tried not to flush at the very thought of Phryne enjoying his rougher touch, finally able to catch his breath with Phryne wriggling but stuck there, underneath him.

"Do you have your darbys?" Mac asked so nonchalantly Jack nearly answered just as factually until he realized the idea for what it was.

He knelt there in shock - just staring at Mac's turned back for the longest moment.

"I know it's not favorable," the doctor continued, "But it's either restrain her or have you fight with her there all night," she explained before turning toward him again.

Jack shook his head in abrupt answer: "No - no, I don't have them on me."

"Shame ..." Mac smirked, "But not to worry. I'm sure she's got some of her own in here somewhere."

As Phryne's best friend went to work searching a trunk of very elaborate objects, Jack went to work at forgetting what a ridiculous a scene it truly was. He relaxed a little over Phryne when Mac was paying them no attention, trying to think of Miss Fisher as just another case of drunk and disorderly - pinning her with a careful but detached manner. However, when Phryne wriggled her hips again, Jack noticed that he was relaxing a little too much. He should probably refrain from leaning, he realized.

"Jack ..." Phryne moaned, physically tiring from the battle her mind insisted upon. "Jack ... I just want to sleep ... that's all ... Really, Jack ..."

"Don't believe her," Mac said from behind the opened trunk, finally standing with cuffs dangling off her index finger. "Got 'em."

"Where are the keys?" he asked from professional experience - knowing the importance of such a detail.

Mac brought the metal bracelets around to the headboard, and laced them through a metal prong of Phryne's headboard.

"There," Mac answered, motioning for one of Phryne's wrists. "We'll find the keys later. I need to look at her first. In case she does lose consciousness."

Jack moved to help the good doctor, taking his weight off of Phryne to try bringing her over. Of course it ended up with Jack worriedly on his back and Phryne lying directly on top of him. Straddling him.

Mac did all she could not to laugh as she gave a little space to the inspector, trusting him to get the job done. She turned back to her kit and wondered about a possible drug that might have Phryne reacting so strangely - a new drug, perhaps?

Meanwhile Jack decided to use what he could in order to get what he needed - Phryne locked into those darbys. Instead of snapping them roughly on her wrists, he opted for a gentler approach, and even allowed her to initiate a kiss while she straddled his hips until SHE relaxed and softened. It was difficult to keep his mind focused with those impossibly sensuous lips on him, but with great effort and determination, he had done it. He locked the second cuff in place to roll out from underneath the squirming, unhappy woman who wrestled against the metal restraints once he had rolled out from under her.

After having heard some shifting on the bed along with Phryne's groan and Jack's relieved sigh, Mac turned back to the sight of Phryne's dress up at her thighs. Mac mused that Phryne was not one to be very shy, but that she would not normally have squirmed that way with Jack in her company. Phryne didn't seem to have much control over herself in her current state.

Finding a seat on the edge of Phryne's bed, Mac snapped her fingers, and watched Phryne's attention divert to the doctor's hand - watching the pupils and the general expressive reaction she saw. When Phryne's gaze wandered, Mac spoke authoritatively to her.

"Look at me."

Phryne blinked, but fastened her eyes on Mac until the doctor turned back to her kit for a needle. Jack admired Mac's alertness and ability to distract and command Phryne in the state she was in, listening when the strict voice was then directed at him.

"I need you to telephone the hospital that I'll be coming in with a sample they'll need to test. It's no use moving her like this, but I'd like to get a rush on the results. This is unlike other drugs I've seen - the way her body's reacting. Her temperature ... that look she's got ... the excitability ... I need the lab prepared for me."

Jack disappeared for the call, arriving back to see that Phryne's lids were growing very heavy and that Mac sat tiredly at her side.

"She's falling asleep?" he asked, crossing his arms at the doorway, admiring the loving care in Mac's eyes as she watched her long-time friend lull into sleep.

"Not quite of her own choosing," Mac smiled, buckling up her kit as she lifted herself from the bed. She walked around the bed toward Jack as she continued: "I gave her something very mild to calm her. To keep her heart rate down."

Jack followed Mac down the stairs as she continued to explain.

"She's relaxed and she should start falling asleep soon," Mac explained, reaching the bottom of the stairs with a smile on her lips for the still-concerned detective following behind her. "She's going to be fine, Inspector. Just fine. I'd just like to know exactly what was in her system in case of any side effects, and I've put her to sleep to keep her from hurting herself against the restraints at the thought of getting at YOU."

When Jack blanched again, Mac chuckled and pulled open the front door. "Don't worry - when she falls asleep, you can let her loose. The effects should wear off in a couple of hours, whatever she was slipped. I only gave her something to relax her, so if she sleeps, it's because her body is finally mellowing. And, Inspector?"

Jack answered with a lift of his brows, and Mac smiled at his dutiful protection of her friend.

"Maybe ... stick around - if you can, of course. When she wakes, she's going to be very confused, and ... quite possibly mortified. Even for Phryne. It might be best if you could try and assure her everything's alright." There was a tone to Mac's words that insinuated she, too, was worried Jack might run away and never turn back.

The hard, stoic smile on Jack's lips tightened as it always did, if only to prove that nothing had changed for him. "Yes ... of course."

"I'll be back in the morning," Mac assured, waving over her shoulder as she walked out to her car.

"Have a safe night, Doctor."

"I always do."

Mr. Butler appeared just as Mac left, offering a drink that Jack declined with great fatigue behind his eyes.

"Mr. Butler ... do you think it might be possible for you to check on Miss Fisher while I take a quick seat?" Jack asked, sighing as he pushed the top button of his shirt through its slot - accenting the state of his already-loosened tie.

Mr. Butler smiled at the man, and gestured over to the parlour. "Of course, Inspector. And should I be making up a guest room for you tonight?"

"I'm quite certain the parlour will do," Jack nodded, never having been a slave to the finer things. He found the chaise lounge with ease, and sunk down into it with a heavy exhale and heavy lids himself. He thought back to the seductive look in Phryne's eyes earlier that evening, and thought that perhaps it WAS best that the night be cut short. The drug, of course, Jack did not welcome. He sat worrying about Phryne until Mr. Butler came down with a somehow normative smile after seeing Phryne - sedated and chained to her bed frame.

"The darbys-" Mr. Butler started, interrupted by Jack's insistence.

"-Were not my idea, I assure you."

Mr. Butler then smiled with great admiration: "I was going to say they were probably necessary, given the way she reacted to whatever was slipped into - her drink, was it?"

"Yes, in all likelihood," Jack sighed, dropping his head back onto the chair. "I left for one moment, and she's targeted. She'd not going to like that implication."

"That she can't handle the world all herself?" Mr. Butler added, his eyes drifting around, reminiscing. "No, I believe she won't ... but there is certainly safety in numbers, and any one person making a go of it alone is more susceptible to trouble than a duo, I presume."

Leave it to Mr. Butler to so eloquently describe such a difficult social issue.

"Will you be the one to explain that to her tomorrow morning?" Jack teased, finally allowing himself to rest when Mr. Butler simply chuckled and gave him some space.

Jack had no luck getting any sleep in the next few hours, disturbed too enticingly by the memories of Phryne pressed so closely to him - so desperate. He never thought he might see such a thing outside of guilty fantasies. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest, he tried pushing all appetizing images from his mind, and found himself only partly successful.

After having given Phryne sufficient time to fall asleep, Jack quietly took himself upstairs to check on her. The banister brushed under his fingertips as he hoped that she was at least relaxed and comfortable. His first job would be to look for those keys to unlock her wrists.

Just as he suspected, Phryne was asleep in her bed with her wrists helplessly locked at her headboard. Jack felt a pang of sickness cease his stomach that somebody might have meant to take her home and hold her against her will just as the darbys kept Phryne restrained to her bed. Bile rose at the very thought of someone taking advantage of any woman, but especially Phryne - his eyes observing the rhythm of her unconscious breathing. She seemed to be well and comfortable - it was Jack who was uncomfortable with the situation. The sooner he could free Phryne, the sooner he could relax.

Jack breathed some courage in to stalk over to the trunk at the end of Phryne's bed - telling himself whatever he would find, he would not draw back. He told himself that it was only a trunk of items, after all, and that he had seen illegal, sexually explicit materials before. What he hadn't seen, however, was a trunk of items Phryne herself had chosen and enjoyed. Jack felt his cheeks flush red, but lifted the lid of the trunk with a stern expression to glance across the heavily shaded selection of gadgets. It was when he spotted yet another set of darbys, rope, and some leather straps that he dropped the lid abruptly - surprising even himself with the reaction. He looked over to the bed where Phryne tossed her head, but remained asleep.

"Pull it together ..." Jack chanted to himself, thinking then of Phryne's privacy. Would she rather remain in cuffs or face the fact that Jack Robinson had taken it upon himself to peruse through her trunk of goodies while she laid unconscious before him. Jack thought he knew the answer to that, preferring the former himself.

In the silence of the room, Jack leaned onto the frame of the bed near Phryne's feet. Her legs were bent but not curled up in comfort - it looked as though she had struggled with sleep and finally lost the battle. Jack smiled softly in the glowing light from the hallway, and admired Phryne there - for once with the private ability to do so - in a most loving sense. She was safe with him. He enjoyed deluding himself into believing it might just be that way for some time to come.

"Mmm ..." Phryne breathed, her legs stretching out on the bed to hitch her turquoise evening dress up a little more - already pulled to a dangerous height across her thighs.

Jack came around the side of the bed and pulled the dress back into place by grasping the material between his index and middle finger. He smiled at the unassuming - even innocent - form before him as Phryne slept away the effects of her intoxicant. She seemed to be so harmless when she slept, and he immediately wished he could bear witness to the sight more often. He almost reached out to stroke her cheek, but stopped himself. Instead, he walked around the bed to lie down beside Phryne in all of his clothing as well. He found great comfort in the fact that he could be at her side. He closed his eyes, sighed, and found sleep there beside her, in Phryne's bed.

***

Phryne tossed her head from left to right and winced at the sound coming from the foot of her bed. She inhaled into wakefulness as she opened her eyes to the left to find none other than Detective Inspector Jack Robinson lying next to her. Her eyes shot open at his perfect, sleeping face. In her bed. In the morning light.

"It's not what you think," Mac spoke at her side, dangling keys with a smirk that greatly confused the still-sleepy brunette.

"Wh ... what're you doing here, Mac ...?"

Jack awoke to the voices, rubbing his hands over his face to witness the shock and confusion on Phryne's. He thought of the question Phryne posed, and then yawned before answering: "You were drugged last night."

Phryne went to sit up, but found her wrists thoroughly stuck. She tugged, and her eyes went even wider before Mac stepped in with the keys to release her.

"Yes," Mac started, feeling for Phryne's disoriented situation. "You were drugged somehow at the club, and then you became ... well ... rather rowdy ... and I saw it fit to cuff you so that I could sedate you."

Phryne's brow lifted at her friend, finding that Mac spoke in smiles to assure her that all was well. Phryne tilted her head once her left am was freed, and tossed Jack a look of his own.

"Just what did I miss last night?" Phryne teased wryly, wondering what had happened as her head was still stirring. "I find it hard to understand why you felt the need to lock me to my bed if I was passed out, lying here. What possible damage could I have done?"

Mac cleared her throat to keep a knowing chuckle from escaping: "You were ...incredibly enthusiastic just before you passed out. Surprisingly strong, too ..."

Once Phryne's wrists were undone, she looked to Jack who had pulled himself up to sit - rolling his sleeves back down his arms.

Phryne glanced up at Mac with a knowing eye: "Oh ...? And who got me into these, then?"

Instead of an answer, Mac turned to Phryne and began to explain the medical information: "It looks like you were drugged with Buphedrone - I haven't seen it around, and it's not widely heard about, but it's not going to do you any lasting damage. It was a very concentrated kind of dose, and you had some strange reactions to it. If you start to feel uneasy and overly tired after you wake up properly, though, let me know and I'll come back to check on you."

"Buphedrone ... what does that do?"

Mac shrugged, disappointed she didn't have more knowledge for her old friend. "I wish I knew all about it, but all I know is that it seems to be very similar to other stimulants with a very intense reaction in you, clearly ... perhaps due to your size."

"My size?" Phryne asked as if she were thoroughly offended only to be told she was rather small for the dose she'd had. Jack had to smile at Phryne's usual attitude slipping in again. He stood with his wrinkled shirt corrected back into place - his tie still hanging loosely around his neck.

"Wait, Jack ...?"

Mac took her cue to leave, and headed toward the door with a pause at the detective's troubled frown.

"Phryne," Mac addressed as close friends who had been through a war together. "If you can ... I would ask you to refrain from teasing a very tired officer to misery. We only did what was best for you, and it was ... a hard night for us all."

Phryne straightened her smirk, sending a little understanding nod to the logical plea as Mac dismissed herself at last, and walked down the hall and out the door.

"I don't mean to tease," Phryne said once they were rightly alone. "But ... would you lie here with me for just another minute?" She asked politely with an exhausted drop of her head to her pillow.

Jack looked at her lying on that bed, and ran his hand though the hair which curled quite adorably onto his forehead. Its usual, sleek placement only accentuated the appeal when finally let loose.

Phryne tried not to notice, given the melancholy mood of the inspector.

"Last night ..." Jack whispered under his breath, deeply troubled by the thought. "I ... was very worried about you."

"I see that," Phryne smiled as innocently as she had slept, motioning for a cloth aside her en suite that Jack then tossed to her. Phryne rubbed what remained of her lipstick off and then appeared as if she laid without defences. The vulnerable picture had Jack remembering just how defenceless she had been the other night, and it hurt him to imagine her having returned with another suitor. Jack dropped to sit on the bed again, tilting his chin down toward his chest. "Jack ...? Jack, are you alright?"

What began as quite soothing began to ache - Phryne's hands on his shoulders, draping herself around him to comfort and console.

"Jack ... I'm sorry you had to see me that way."

Jack let out an unpredictable breath of laughter at the very idea: "Me too ..."

Phryne smiled at the contagious reaction, holding Jack from behind. "Was it that funny? You'll have to remind me so I can better recollect it, I'm afraid."

At the memory, Jack couldn't help but feel the burn of desire racing through him. He closed his eyes and willed it away - frustrated when it remained. "I ... think you'll have to ask the good doctor about that."

"Did I hurt you?" Phryne asked worriedly, imagining herself on some psychotic drug or another - limbs flailing.

The hand that so tenderly covered his heart just then had Jack melting. Did Phryne care as deeply for him, perhaps? He so wanted it to be true, but he wouldn't allow himself to dream of impossible things.

"No ..."

"Then will you please tell me?" Phryne whispered against him with her dress pulled taut under her knees and her hands still keeping her stable against the strong figure in her bed for the first time. "Jack ...? Please?"

"You wanted me," Jack finally breathed, as if he had been holding his breath for decades on end. His entire chest slouched with the confession, weak and unstable. "You ... were so ... you were a definite distraction, I'll give you that ..."

Phryne smiled on his shoulder, playing her fingers delicately through the back of his hair. "Oh, Jack ... you must know I want you by now. Without any drug."

As tense as he felt at her open confession, he felt alleviated by her trust. "Last night was no casual tease ..." he hinted, feeling his body react again when she came to sit at his side, looking him in the eyes.

"Whatever happened last night, Jack ... please tell me you won't run from me because of it ... whatever I did."

No longer could he pretend as though running were even possible. The uncertainty dancing in her eyes shook him.

"It wasn't running I was afraid of ... it was succumbing to you, I'm afraid ..."

"I came on strong, then ...?" Phryne teased gently, nudging Jack with her shoulder. Slouching against him for support.

"... You could say that."

"And yet you found it in yourself to get me here safely ... even cuffing me to my own bed in the name of love."

Jack's breathing hitched at the word - love. How long had she known?

"I'm certainly not ashamed to say I would have done the same for you," Phryne smiled, snuggling just a little closer beside him. "And I'm not about to ask you to show me how you did that ... because I'm sure it was difficult for you ... but a girl can't help the thought, can she?"

Stunned still, Jack sat and listened as Phryne got to her feet.

"I just hope it wasn't too difficult, getting me into those cuffs ..."

Then and only then did Jack lift his eyes purposefully to hers, standing just a foot from her - standing strong and sure as he was a man of principles.

"All it took was a kiss," Jack said with only a hint of his usual, coy grin, imagining that he could still prove after all that he was a man who was perfectly capable of some fun. "One very special kiss, and you surrendered completely to me."

The plea to experience the special kiss once more fell on Phryne's lips as she stood there in her own stunned silence - for once understanding the effect of a strong, confidently-sexual insinuation from a would-be lover.

"... Jack ..."

"Good day, Miss Fisher," Jack whispered, lingering in the doorway with a cheeky grin. Without a word or a kiss or so much as a touch, Jack Robinson turned and left her room. With only that familiar smolder he had shared with her so many times before, Phryne realized that he, too, could be a tease.

Phryne stood alone in her bedroom, breathless and wanting. She couldn't help but imagine that Jack knew an awful lot more about fun than he let on.


End file.
